Master Of My Fate
I sit still and wonder why?
Why our reality is nothing but a cage
Limited from conception and to the inenvitable
Inbetween we struggle with the concept of light and darkness
Cleverly seeking to live in greys
Do we really make our own fate or was our fate predestined
And thrusted down our throats without a choice?
Or did we in a way consent to this fate which we have no memory of?
What was worth the risk of subjecting oneself to this wandering ignorance
I sit still hoping to hear myself whisper the purpose which I sort
Or maybe it truly a cage against our will
Do you make your fate or are you helpless?
We make our own fate
You can't be so sure
And why do you say so
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